Post by Darth Venomir on Jan 16, 2017 12:42:40 GMT
hi guys! this is a sanctuary for those lost, but force enabled souls who do not know wether they want to become a jedi, sith, or neither. my droid, P3-AC3, is in charge here. he is a force-sensitive droid, and is a medical droid. he will be teaching you some force techniques, giving you sanctuary... overall, have fun, and please do not try to sway others to either side. they may choose what they want.
hello. i am P3-AC3, your instructor and new friend. have a great time!
hi guys! this is a sanctuary for those lost, but force enabled souls who do not know wether they want to become a jedi, sith, or neither. my droid, P3-AC3, is in charge here. he is a force-sensitive droid, and is a medical droid. he will be teaching you some force techniques, giving you sanctuary... overall, have fun, and please do not try to sway others to either side. they may choose what they want.
hello. i am P3-AC3, your instructor and new friend. have a great time!
OOC: Nice idea. It doesn't mean that you can't use this name for it, but I'm pretty sure that canonly, the Church of the Force is not made up of Force-sensitives, but is rather a group of non-Force-sensitives who believe in the balance.
Post by TheThankfulMysteryRider on Apr 21, 2022 22:14:24 GMT
A lone Mando'ade looks upward as a Modified A-Wing descends for landing.
Exiting the pilot's seat, a figure draped in Krillo Beast hide fidgets with a malfunctioning viewscreen. "Fell, the forest is giving off a strange pulse that nearly fried my navicomputer."
Underneath his helmet, the Mando'ade smiles. "As intended." He resumes honing the end of his beskad, inspecting the sharpness of the ancient blade.
A lone Mando'ade looks upward as a Modified A-Wing descends for landing.
Exiting the pilot's seat, a figure draped in Krillo Beast hide fidgets with a malfunctioning viewscreen. "Fell, the forest is giving off a strange pulse that nearly fried my navicomputer."
Underneath his helmet, the Mando'ade smiles. "As intended." He resumes honing the end of his beskad, inspecting the sharpness of the ancient blade.
The two walk amongst the trees, cautious of the echoes made by creatures unseen.
Entering a hidden glen, the Figure approaches a tree bearing a different shade than the rest. Fell is slightly taken back. Unlike the surrounding fauna, it was a shade of grey. Gnarled, its branches were twisted into unsettling positions, forming the image of a vaguely human-like being bowing their head in sorrow.
The Figure scrapped moss from its trunk, revealing letters carved within it. "An unusual piece indeed." She scanned the markings while commenting further, "I would surely rank this near the top of the strangest sights I've seen...but not quite-" The Figure pauses. Drawing back, she rolls her eyes, measuring her frustration.
While leaning on the ancient trunk for support, moss had stuck onto her robes, revealing another portion of markings – in Khilese.
Fell adjusts his whistling birds. "Linibar gaa'taylir? (Need help?)"
The Figure shakes her head. "If one could turn back time, or at least find a local to speak with."
Brushing away a bee, Fell nods. "The Church of the Force has been lost for decades I'm afraid. Yet, within this maze of a forest perhaps one or two members still remain, if not off world."
"If there remains anyone who even existed during the time of Farnor. The rogue leaves his mark even now."
The two return to their starships, discussing plans to head for the Jedi Citadel.
